It's as Canadian as... what? Apple pie? Naw, that's somewhere else...
Maple syrup? Ya, that's it! Poutine is as Canadian as maple syrup.
So I've long felt a bit unpatriotic about never having sampled the esteemed delicacy and iconic Canadian dish. When we're quizzing the Park Warden up in Massey about where to eat, he says Lucky's in Spanish.
"Folks drive a hundred miles for the poutine," he says.
We only had to drive thirty so that seemed like a good deal to me.
Been to Spanish a few times. Got a nice marina. Sorry to say I've never taken my boat there. I'm saving that for the day I do the North Channel with that Rosborough I've had my eye on for a couple years now.
On the way to the marina, which is a couple miles off the highway, you pass by what was once one of the bigger residential schools in the province. That's where they used to stash the native kids that they'd kidnap away from their families, in order to instill in them the love of Christ and the values of the white man.
Many of those native kids never made it back home to their parents. Went home to Jesus instead. Too often the residential schools were one satanic travesty of abuse and sadism that has ruined generations of native families.
But when you come into town on Highway 17 you get to Lucky's before you get to the shell of that school, so you've still got your appetite. Ordered up a family order of poutine for me and small order of fries for the Farm Manager.
For those who aren't in the know, poutine is a basket of fries drowned in goopy gravy and cheese curds.
I don't know where this goes wrong. I like cheese. I like fries. I like gravy...
Then again, I like poached eggs, I like beer, and I like strawberries. Pretty sure if I poured all three in a dish I wouldn't be impressed with the result.
That's how the poutine thing went for me. Got to the parking lot at the marina and set my poutine on the ground for the dogs.
They sniff at it and give me the doggie stink-eye. It's like they're trying to say "you better up your game, dude."
As for the school, whoever owns it now has put up a fence. Behind the fence you can see gardens and flowers...